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Lucas flinches at my touch and walks around me. “Fine,” he mutters, stalking towards the cabin.
I watch him go, my frown deepening. Something is wrong. It’s been wrong since the beginning of the year and I feel like with each passing day, it’s growing worse. Why won’t he talk to me?
Chapter 17
HUNTER
Myhandsslideagainstmy knees while I look around at the shelves filled with books and the new plant standing in the corner. It’s green leaves flop over. Clearly, it needs water, but I suppose Dr. Forrester isn’t the type to keep up with the watering habits of her plants. She sits at her desk, a notebook in her lap as she waits for me to speak.
“So,” I begin nervously, clasping my hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “I’ve been finding it very hard to remain sober. I keep busy enough. I have work, school, and I try to study when I’m not with my friends. I need to keep a clean record if I want to work in the local high schools.”
Dr. Forrester bobs her head. “So you have a lot to lose if you give in?”
“Exactly.” I swallow the lump in my throat, my body trembling as I think of Millie: her snide smile, her cruel gaze, the way her voice makes me want to run. How can someone like that have so much power over me? “There’s a girl, Millie. We used to do drugs together.”
“She’s the one who got you into trouble at work,” Dr. Forrester interjects, pointing her pencil at me as I nod. “Did you change your work schedule?”
“Yeah, but she’s figured it out.” I cringe, recalling yesterday morning when she followed me into work, yelling at me for stalking her when I’ve done no such thing. Thankfully, Tony wasn’t in, yet, and Amy threatened to have her banned from the gym. I don’t know if Amy can do that, but Millie got the message and left quickly after that.
“Why do you think she’s bothering you now after all this time?”
“I have no fucking clue.” I grimace, muttering a quick apology for my profanity before continuing on with, “I think she enjoys being cruel to me.”
“Everyone has a reason for the things they do. Maybe she enjoys being cruel to you, but why?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t done anything to her. The last two years I stayed far away from her group, and the parties. I don’t understand why she’s coming after me now.”
“Okay, switching gears, what do you do when you feel the need to break your sobriety?”
My hands fist, recalling the panic attacks and the way my heart feels like it’s about to explode. “I work out,” I say, which is a lie. I can’t work out when I’m in that state. It’s hard for me to breathe let alone lift something. “And I call Rachel or the bros.” That part is true, but they’re usually busy. Alex and Seth are in the middle of preparing for graduation while Lucas has his book to work on and Rachel spends most her time at the art school creating pieces to sell in the May market. I can’t talk to Dad about this. I’m pretty much isolated. I’m surprised I haven’t given into temptation yet.
“How often do you talk to your friends?”
Dr. Forrester can read me like a book. She knows based on how I’m reacting I don’t talk to them often. “Whenever they pick up.”
“And do they answer?”
“They’re busy.”
Dr. Forrester frowns. She writes something down in her notebook. Often I want to break in and see if she’s writing something foul like: Hunter doesn’t have any friends, or Hunter is weak, but I know that’s just my poor self-esteem talking.
“You’re still living with your father, right?”
I clench my jaw to keep from grimacing and nod. “Yeah.”
“This is going to sound absolutely cliche,” Dr. Forrester says with a sad smile, “but how does that make you feel?”
“Terrible,” I blurt out, surprised by my own admission. The word came out of nowhere.
Dr. Forrester nods. “I suppose you feel a bit like an outcast from your friends since you can’t be around them as much as you used to.”
That’s exactly how I feel. “There’s no space in the apartment. I understand why I can’t be with them, but it still sucks. Living at home isn’t the worst. Dad and I pretty much stay out of each other’s way, but I miss having my own life.”
“Which is reasonable. It’s hard going from complete independence back to living with your father. Definitely understandable.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Sometimes I feel like a bum.”
Dr. Forrester tilts her head as she says, “But would a bum be going to school? Working? Paying their own bills?”
